


The Education of Sirius Black

by aesopianalex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marauders' Era, Recreational Drug Use, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesopianalex/pseuds/aesopianalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen year-old Sirius Black thought life could not get better at Hogwarts Boarding School. That was, until the mysterious new student Remus Lupin turned up. Wolfstar Boarding School AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black loosened the tie around his neck as he entered his dormitory, throwing his book bag across the room as he did so. It landed, with a muffled thump, on the bed’s occupant.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?”

“What have I told you about staying out of my bed?” grinned Sirius, walking over to said bed and sitting down on it with a big bounce. He lay down and knocked into his best friend James, who nearly toppled over its side.

“Yes, well, we all know you got the best bed. Don’t know how you managed to get one that’s so much more comfortable than everyone else’s,” grumbled James, rolling back onto the bed and giving Sirius his own shove.

“Money, dear Prongs, money,” grinned Sirius, sitting up and looking at James. “Count and Countess Black have paid good money to the hallowed learning establishment of Hogwarts Boarding School.”

James sighed theatrically. “Just because you have a lot of money, you think you can go about throwing book bags at your best mate. Really.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, letting out his short, bark-like laugh. “What are you doing here, anyway? Fancied an afternoon nap again?”

“Well, I was napping,” said James, now sitting up himself. “But then I noticed the new bed.”

“New bed?” asked Sirius, his eyes following James’s outstretched finger. It was true; there was a new four-poster bed added to their tower dormitory, decked out in the same thick red and gold comforter as the other three beds, sitting a few feet away from Sirius’s.

“I was just going to go and see how it rated in terms of comfortableness when I was rudely assaulted.”

“Let’s get to it, then, shall we?” asked Sirius, and he jumped off his bed and onto the new one.

“Not as good as mine, unfortunately,” he said, giving it an experimental bounce as James joined him.

“Afraid to say you’re right, Padfoot,” James agreed. “I’ll just have to keep using yours, then.”

“Although,” Sirius added, leaning back now, “the pillows are rather fluffy.”

“Hmm,” James said, leaning back as well.

“And these are definitely new bed things,” Sirius said, plucking at the comforter and blanket. “Probably much better than ours.”

Lost in their laughter, James and Sirius didn’t notice when the door to their dormitory slipped open.

“Er,” said a voice from above them. Sirius and James looked up, their laughter dying out, as they contemplated the boy who must be their new roommate. He was tall and thin, with golden-brown hair that fell past his ears and into his eyes, which were bright in his pale face. Sirius couldn’t help himself from staring at the boy, who had the kind of good looks that he only seemed to be able to notice if he looked at him slantwise. In spite of this, Sirius’s eyes were immediately drawn to a long, jagged pair of scars running from the top of his head, through his eyebrow, and down his cheek. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” the boy said, quirking a small smile. “But I think that’s my new bed?” He was looking around the rest of the circular tower room; the other beds all had their owner’s trunks set out in front of them, contents falling over them and strewn across the floor, and posters stuck up around their walls.

“Right,” said James, standing up quickly and brushing off his clothes. “We were just—er—“

“We were testing out the comfortableness ratio of your bed,” said Sirius with a straight face, also getting up to greet the boy.

“And how did it hold up?,” he asked, amused, as he set down his trunk in front of his bed and opened it.

“Fairly well,” Sirius continued on. “Not as good as mine, but I think it’s better than James’s or Pete’s.”

“I’m James, by the way,” James added, sticking out his hand. “James Potter.” He gave the new boy his most charming smile, the one that helped James wiggle his way out of late homework assignments or detentions.

“Remus Lupin,” the boy answered, shaking his hand politely.

“Sirius Black,” Sirius said, shaking Remus’s hand as well; he felt a small jolt run through him as the boy slipped his thin hand into his own.

Sirius stuck his hands back into his pockets and watched, with some small fascination, as Remus opened his battered trunk and starting pulling out his belongings.

“Pete lives here as well,” said James. “That’s his bed over there. He’s stuck in detention now though, so I expect you’ll meet him later.”

Remus raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, pulling out stacks of his sweaters and a few dog-eared books.

“We’re going down to dinner now,” said Sirius. “Want to join us?”

“I should probably finish unpacking,” Remus said quietly, not meeting their eyes. “Thanks, though.”

“All right,” said James. “If you ever want a tour of the place or anything, let us know. It’s pretty big.”

“And we know all its secrets,” Sirius added.

Remus smiled and thanked them again.

000  
“What’s up with him, do you think?” Sirius asked for the dozenth time. He was sitting in the back of his European History class with James, leaning back in his chair so that its front two legs were tipped off the ground. Neither of them was paying attention; they never did in History class, which was by far their dullest subject. The Professor, an aging little man named Binns, droned on in the front of the class, eyes on his notes, for the entire hour and fifteen minutes each lesson; personally, Sirius thought a riot could break out under his nose and the man wouldn’t notice. He and James had started seeing how much noise and distraction they could cause without getting into trouble; so far, they had successfully lobbed wadded up balls of paper from the back of the classroom into the trash bin at the front, crouched beneath the desks and tied together a few people’s shoelaces, and, during one particularly daring tryst, cut off a chunk of Severus Snape’s hair without his noticing.

Today, however, Sirius and James were not pulling any of their pranks; it was a Monday morning and Sirius had a pounding hangover, and it was all he could do to remain awake in the class. That didn’t stop him from watching Remus Lupin, however, who was sitting in the front of the classroom diligently taking notes.

“Who, Lupin?” asked James, unable to stifle a huge yawn.

“Of course,” Sirius said, watching as Lupin’s hand glided across the page of his notebook, scrawling out the notes that Sirius would probably nick from his book bag later.

“Dunno,” said James, his eyes glazed over; the subject of Remus Lupin, while interesting at first, had quickly become less so to James, who now turned a sleepy eye toward the girl sitting a few seats over from Remus, her bright red head bent over her own notebook.

“But where was he all weekend?” Sirius asked.

“Beats me,” said James.

Sirius sighed, deciding that talking to James was getting him nowhere.

“What d’you think, Pete?” he asked the boy on his other side, who was sitting with his head in his hands and gazing at the blank parchment before him.

“What?”

“I said, what do you think’s up with Lupin?”

“Oh—I don’t know. Whatever James said.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away. While Peter was always a laugh, he wasn’t one to have deep conversations with; he had tired of the subject of Remus even more quickly than James had.

If Sirius was being honest with himself, he might have admitted that his recent obsession with Remus Lupin, was, as James put it, a bit mad. At first, the subject of their new dorm mate had been an interesting topic for James, Peter, and Sirius. Remus was hardly ever in the room, except for when he crept in late at night, and he shook off every offer the boys made inviting him to eat or to hang out on the weekends. Far from deterring his interest, this mysterious behavior made Sirius all the more interested in getting to know the boy.

“If he doesn’t want to hang out with us, that’s up to him,” James had said once, shrugging off Sirius’s latest round of questioning. He was used to Sirius’s behavior though, and had seen him border on obsession several times before, so he let him run his course, though he had started getting an exasperated look in his eye every time Sirius brought it up.

Now, Sirius continued to watch him for the rest of the lesson instead of paying attention to Binns. Once the bell rang signaling the end of class, Sirius jumped out of his seat, but by the time he reached the front of the classroom Remus was gone.

000

“She’s bound to say yes to me if I keep asking,” James said. It was dinnertime, and the three boys were sitting in the Great Hall. The meals at Hogwarts were excellent, by boarding school standards, and they had just finished a delicious course of steak-and-kidney pie. James was glancing along the table every few minutes, staring at Lily Evans with abject longing as she sat and chatted with her friends.

“That’s the spirit, mate,” said Sirius. “Just keep bombarding her until she’s so tired of you asking she just gives in.”

James scowled at him. “I don’t see you doing too well, either. Where’s Zabini, then?”

“We broke things off last week,” said Sirius, leaning back.

“Oh,” said James. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you mention it?”

Sirius shrugged. “It wasn’t even serious anyway, you knew that.” The truth was that he had barely thought about Anthony lately, the boy he had been seeing on-and-off for a few months.

“Well, sorry anyway,” said James, giving him an odd look before turning to Peter. “What about you Wormtail, any luck lately?”

Peter turned slightly pink. “I wish you’d stop calling me that,” he said around a mouthful of food. “And no. I’m thinking of asking Bertha Jorkins to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend, though.” He said these last words all in a rush, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Well, would you look at that. Wormtail here is doing the best out of all of us. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“He said not to call him that,” James said, though he was grinning.

“How can I help it if that fat rat Snowball fell in love with him?” Sirius asked, mock-innocent. It was true, though; they had been supposed to be training their rats to go through a maze and eat the pellets of food at the end, but their rat had scampered off the table, crawled up Peter’s arm, and nestled onto his shoulder. The name had stuck ever since. Even their usually strict biology Professor, McGonagall, had had trouble disguising her smile that day.

“Enough romantic talk, though,” Sirius said, getting up from the table and stretching his long limbs. “Although Peter and Snowball are the greatest love story of our generation, we’ve got a prank to pull on Snivellus.”

Peter looked slightly disappointed at the prospect of missing dessert, but followed James and Sirius out of the Great Hall all the same.

They wound their way down the giant staircase that led down from the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall; from there, they pushed on one of the large oak doors that led down into the twisting dungeon passages. Hogwarts Boarding School was an ancient castle, whose four founders had dedicated themselves to education and made sure that the building was designated as a learning establishment for posterity. Though the castle was enormous, with twisting spiral staircases, secret passageways, ornate oil paintings, thick oriental rugs, and even clanking suits of armor, there were only four dormitories in the place; not that many students could afford to attend, and the school only gave out a few scholarships. The four dormitories were named after each of the founders, and the one they were making their way toward now happened to house their least favorite student, Severus Snape.

Sirius and James’s loathing of Snape had been instant, and by extension Peter was included in it too. The boy was simply nasty; there was no other way to put it. While he was exceptionally bright, here on a chemistry scholarship, his intelligence did not extend to social matters. He was rude to everyone (except for Lily Evans, which was perhaps the sorest point of the whole thing for James), often making snide comments that left some of the younger students bursting into tears. James and Sirius had made antagonizing Snape one of their top priorities, having fought with Snape on their very first train ride to school. Snape didn’t take that lying down though, and was a clever and cruel adversary. They had all ended up in the nurse’s office because of Snape, who had on more than one occasion slipped some of his little chemistry experiments into their drinks.

“Got the stuff?” James asked, once they had reached an old marble statue that served as their vantage point. Peter nodded and pulled out a small, bulging back from his book bag.

“Brilliant!” James said. “And now we wait.” He slid down the wall by the statue, turning his head to look out at the corridor beyond. Sirius and Peter joined him.

Their planned prank was simple enough; they had purchased a large bag of stink pellets a few weeks ago from the joke shop in the nearby village Hogsmeade, and had been itching for the chance to use them. After some careful reconnaissance by Peter, they had determined that Snape often made his way back to the Slytherin dorm by way of the shortcut where the statue they hid behind stood. Their plan was to drop the stink pellets into his pockets as he passed by, counting on the fact that he was usually engrossed in some chemistry book as he walked.

They had been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes when Peter spotted him; Sirius had nearly been about to suggest they leave the prank for another day, but there Snape was, slinking down the hallway.

“Slimy git,” Sirius whispered, eyes narrowing in automatic dislike.

“Shh,” James whispered back, already holding a brimming handful of the stink pellets. When Snape passed by their hiding spot, he dropped the small pellets into his trouser pocket, holding his breath. It seemed to have worked, for Snape kept walking.

The three boys grinned at each other; then, however Snape’s voice broke out in the silence. They held their breath---

“Lupin?” It was Snape speaking, his nasally voice dripping with dislike.

“Severus,” Remus said; it was indeed him, passing by in the dungeon shortcut.

“What are you doing down here?”

“It is a crime to be in the dungeons now?” Lupin asked lightly, and Sirius felt a rush of admiration for him that he was not backing down.

Snape simply narrowed his eyes at Remus, made to leave, then stopped.

“Potter,” he breathed. “Black!” His hands had found the bulge in his pocket, and he pulled out one of the stink pellets with a deranged look in his eye.

“They did this,” he said, turning around on the spot, his eyes scouring—

“Sorry?” asked Lupin. He too was surveying the surrounding area, and his eyes roamed over the statue three times before he turned back to Snape.

“I’ll get them in detention for this,” Snape was muttering, he took a few steps backward.

“I’m afraid not,” Lupin said, still in his airy tone of voice.

“Excuse me?” Snape had stopped, staring at Lupin.

“I’m afraid you can’t get them in detention, as it was me who did it.”

“You?”

“Yes,” he continued on. “I’m terribly sorry, didn’t know you’d take it this badly. Just a friendly little prank.”

Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes.

“Right,” breathed Snape. “I’d watch my step if I were you, Lupin.” He stalked past Remus, giving him a nasty shove with his shoulder as he did so. Remus watched him go, absently rubbing the spot where Snape had shoved him, until he disappeared.

Once they were sure Snape was gone, James, Sirius, and Peter emerged from behind the statue.

“That was brilliant!” James said, staring at Remus in awe.

“Really,” Peter squeaked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sirius added.

“No problem,” Remus said, giving them a smile. “I don’t quite like Snape. Didn’t want you lot to get detention.”

They beamed at him as they made their way back up to the Gryffindor dormitory, Sirius slinging an arm around his shoulder. Whether he liked it or not, Remus Lupin had won the respect and friendship of the Marauders.


	2. Chapter 2

                Now that Sirius had experienced being friends with Remus Lupin, he could not imagine how he had survived life without him. Sirius quickly discovered, to his delight, that Remus was not quite the good boy his quiet and polite demeanor made him out to be; once you got to know him, he was wickedly clever, with just as much as talent for causing trouble as James and Sirius possessed. However, he was a bit more discerning with this talent, and flat-out refused to help them plan any pranks on students he considered “innocent”, which basically meant anyone who was either younger than them or did not reside in the Slytherin dorms, whose occupants quickly targeted Remus once they realized he was friends with Sirius, James, and Peter.

                Remus settled comfortably into life with the Marauders, filling gaps that the boys hadn’t even known had been there. He helped Peter with his History and English essays, far more patient than James and Sirius ever were with the boy, who could easily manipulate numbers but had trouble with words; whenever someone seemed down, Remus would leave a brightly wrapped piece of chocolate in his bedside table, though he claimed to have no knowledge about the mysterious candy; he could go off on tangents about the latest book he was reading, and the way Remus’s eyes would light up filled Sirius’s stomach with a warm, contented glow.

                Yet for all this, Remus Lupin still remained a mystery in many ways, one that Sirius was determined to figure out. His behavior was downright odd at times, and he was tight-lipped about revealing anything too personal; he still seemed to be testing out the water with the Marauders, despite the fact that they had readily accepted him, and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. Sirius thought something about Remus’s behavior was reminiscent of some animal warily regarding his surroundings, ready to bolt at any moment.

                Talking about it with James and Peter was useless. Neither of them seemed to notice anything off about Lupin, and the last time he had tried to bring it up, James had clapped a hand on his shoulder and told him to give it a rest.

                Which, of course, Sirius had no intention of doing.

000

                Sirius watched Remus closely over the next few weeks, but the boy still did not let his guard down. Throughout that time, Sirius noticed several new quirks of his, and stored them away for later consideration. He couldn’t come up with any ideas as to why Remus always wore long sleeves, no matter how hot it was, not even rolling up the cuffs, nor why some days he barely spoke to anyone, a closed-off and distant expression on his face all day, nor why he could disappear for hours on end. And then there was the question of those two jagged scars running down his face; whenever Sirius asked any questions about them, Remus would gently deflect them and change the subject.

                Sirius’s first chance to learn more about Remus came one Tuesday when the two of them were stuck behind in the Chemistry lab; Sirius had volunteered to partner with Remus, despite Remus’s assurances that he was truly awful and would probably hurt Sirius’s grade. Sirius had laughed this off, but after their failed experiment (which had resulted in several shattered glasses and an acidic mix leaking everywhere) Sirius had to admit that Remus had a point.

                He didn’t regret partnering with Remus though; Sirius was brilliant at Chemistry, and Professor Slughorn had allowed the two of them to stay late today and turn in their project tomorrow at Sirius’s insistence that faulty equipment had been the source of their troubles. Slughorn had given him an exasperated look but relented. Sirius knew this was probably due to the fact that Slughorn had been trying for years to “collect” Sirius, as he liked to do with some of the students who had powerful connections. Sirius would never allow Slughorn to do so, but it couldn’t hurt to use a little bit of his Black charm to help Remus out. Now, Sirius was looking at two whole hours of alone time with Remus, and he couldn’t hide his grin as he held a new beaker up to the light.

                “What’re you looking so cheerful for?” Remus asked, leaning against their lab table.

                “The joy of science, dear Remus,” Sirius replied, setting the beaker down and turning toward Lupin.

                Remus snorted. “What joy?”

                “Ah, a skeptic,” Sirius said, adjusting his googles. “Sit back and watch.”

                “Shouldn’t I be helping?” Remus asked, voice hesitant, after a few minutes of watching Sirius work on their experiment.

                Sirius laughed. “No offense, mate, but no.”

                Remus also laughed. “I guess that’s fair,” he said, watching for the next ten minutes as Sirius measured, poured, and stirred.

                “There,” he finally said, holding up one of the beakers, which had turned just the shade of bright green their lab manual had said it would. “Now, we put this one on heat,” he said, turning toward the Bunsen burner and setting it down. “And this one,” he said, picking up a different beaker, “We let cool.”

                He turned back to Remus. “Now we wait.”

                “How did you manage to do that?” asked Remus, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice.

                Sirius shrugged, trying hard not to show the pleasure he felt at Remus’s praise. “Dunno. Guess it just comes naturally.”

                Remus shook his head. “I don’t know how you and James do it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you open a book, and yet you’re top of every class.”

                “No, _you’re_ top of every class,” Sirius corrected him. “Except chemistry,” he amended.

                “Not every class,” Remus muttered, though he looked pleased. “And that’s only because I work at it.”

                Sirius gave him an appraising look. “It is not,” he said. “You could do the same as James and I and still get top marks. It’d leave you more time for having some actual fun, too.”

                Remus raised an eyebrow. “Just because my idea of a good time doesn’t include trying to stick Mulciber’s head down the toilet doesn’t mean I don’t have fun.”

                “He was asking for it. You know he’s a git, he bullies first years.”

                “Well, yes, but—“

                “Ah, no buts,” said Sirius, raising a finger. “And, may I ask, what _is_ your idea of a good time, then?” he asked before he could stop himself. Remus opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. Sirius hid his grin on the pretense of turning back and checking the burner.

                “All I’m saying,” Sirius said, turning back toward Remus. “Is that you could spend a little more time with your friends. Who happen to enjoy hanging out with you quite a lot.”               Sirius thought he might be speaking more for himself than the rest of the group at this point, but he ignored that thought as he watched surprise flit across Remus’s face.

                Remus was quiet for a minute before he said, “I’m usually just in the library. When I leave the room.”

                “The _library_?”   

                Remus smiled at Sirius’s indignation. “Yes, it’s very nice there.”

                Sirius groaned, closing his eyes and bringing his hand to his chest in mock horror. “Lupin, you’re killing me.”

                Remus laughed, the quiet cool laugh that Sirius had come to adore, the one that seemed to speak of creeks babbling and dusty pages turning. “I told you, I need to keep up my grades.”

                “And I told you, you could that in your sleep.”

                “Not in chemistry.”

                “It’s one class. History’s the same for me.”

                Remus shifted slightly. “I can’t really afford it, though.” He paused. “I’m here on scholarship.” He looked down as he said this, checking one of their vials. When he looked up, Sirius was smiling.

                “You’re a bloody genius, Lupin,” he said. “They’re not going to chuck you out because of your chemistry grade.”

                Remus tensed. “You never know,” he said, not meeting Sirius’s eyes.

                “Hey,” Sirius said quietly, the smile slipping from his face. “If you’re worried about it, I can—I don’t know, tutor you or something.”             

                Remus looked up. “Tutor me? The boy who trembles at the mention of the library?”

                “No, the one who, to quote Remus Lupin, is the smartest person at Hogwarts without even trying.”

                “Somehow I don’t recall saying it like that.” Remus leaned over, a small smile playing about his lips, and warily prodded at the cooling beaker. “I think this one is done.”

                “Here, let me,” Sirius said, leaning over and taking the beaker from Remus; their hands brushed briefly, and Sirius felt an odd swooping sensation in his stomach as he felt Remus’s cool, dry skin.

000

                “See you lot later,” said James, standing up from the breakfast table and grinning at them all. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing hopefully at Lily Evans, but she remained deep in conversation with Marlene McKinnon. James watched her for a few seconds before turning back to his friends and waving.

                “Knock ‘em dead!” Sirius yelled after him, adding a wolf whistle for good measure. James turned back and grinned at him. Sirius earned a few pointed looks from the staff table, but he ignored these and returned to his oatmeal with gusto.

                There was a football match today, and he, Remus, and Peter would all be watching James play. Even better than that, it was Remus’s first school football match; last time, he had been in the library, but Sirius had refused to allow him to do so this time. Sirius turned toward Remus, laughing at Professor McGonagall’s continued glaring, only to find Remus staring at Lily thoughtfully.

                “He really likes her, doesn’t he?” He finally said, turning back to his toast.

                “Yeah,” said Sirius, watching Remus closely; he felt an inexplicable, uncomfortable prickling of anger, and tried to brush it off. Remus didn’t say anything else though, and fifteen minutes later they bundled their scarves and gloves on and made their way out toward the football field, Sirius shooting glances at Remus every few minutes.

                “James is brilliant,” Peter said as they clambered up the bleachers, breaking the silence among them. “He’ll crush Slytherin.”

                “Are the teams organized according to dorms?” Remus asked, settling himself down between Sirius and Peter.

                “Yeah,” Peter nodded. “Officially, there’s no rules about it, technically any group of people can form a team. It’s always been by dorms, though.”

                “And who’s playing today?”

                Peter grinned. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin. So you’ll be in for a treat.”

                Remus smiled. “I’m sure this does loads for promoting inter-dorm friendship.”

                “Who’d want to be friends with a bunch of Slytherins, anyway?”

                “Shut up, Peter,” Sirius said suddenly, crossing his arms across his chest. Peter blushed and muttered something under his breath.

                Remus turned toward him, raising his eyebrows. “There’s no need to speak to Peter like that. It’s not like you and James don’t say the same thing all the time.”

                Sirius couldn’t think of any retort, nor could he explain his foul mood. He looked away from Remus, slightly ashamed at himself, but didn’t apologize to Peter. He settled for staring moodily out at the field while Peter and Remus discussed the strengths and weaknesses of the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams. 

                About fifteen minutes later, the referee, Ms. Hooch, stepped out onto the field, blowing her whistle. The loud chatter in the stands didn’t die away, but the sound lowered into a dull buzzing. The players walked out onto the field, the Gryffindors and Slytherins alike raising their hands and waving at the crowd, playing for applause and cheering. The Gryffindors got a much warmer response, since most of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students were rooting for them as well, and James seemed to feed off the attention, his grin never slipping from his face. As he was Gryffindor captain, he and the Slytherin captain were to shake hands before the match started, but there was no good will between them; they looked as though they were trying to crush each other’s hands, and as James was much thinner than the bulky Slytherin captain, he came out worse. His face didn’t show it though, and he stepped back toward his teammates with a collected look on his face. He turned toward his team, giving them some words of encouragement before the match started a few minutes later.

                Sirius’s bad temper left him as he watched the match, screaming at the Slytherins and cheering for the Gryffindors as loudly as everyone else. When James scored the winning goal, he physically jumped up in his seat, and led the charge out onto the field to swarm the Gryffindor team. He and the crowd lifted James up onto their shoulders, bearing him up toward the castle. Sirius tried not to look to see if Remus was following, but couldn’t help himself; he spotted him lingering near the bleachers, smiling when he caught Sirius’s eye.

000

                Up in the Gryffindor common room that night, Sirius and James started a raging party, complete with plenty of snacks and beer. Sirius was three beers and a few shots in, pleasantly drunk and veering toward drunker, before he left James and the rest of the team’s side and started wandering around the common room. He spotted Peter and Frank Longbottom, the Gryffindor goalkeeper, laughing over some pizza, and Lily sitting with a crowd of her friends, giggling over the top of her beer. He felt a surge of pleasure at the fact that Remus was nowhere near her, but then realized that Remus wasn’t anywhere.

                Sirius hoped that Remus hadn’t gone to the library; there was no way he could go there this drunk without earning himself a week’s worth of detentions. But maybe he had slipped up their dorm room. That seemed a very Remus thing to do. Unnoticed by the drunk, laughing crowd, he darted up the staircase and up toward their room. Stumbling slightly, he burst into the room.

                Remus was sitting on his bed, staring out the open window with a calm look on his face. Sirius thought it might have been the most peaceful he’d ever seen Remus, and something seemed to still within him as he watched Remus staring at the moon, the scars on his face nearly invisible in the silvery light.

                This only lasted a few moments though, for Remus turned as heard Sirius stumbling into the room, a half finished beer still in his hand. 

                “Sirius,” he said, and a wide grin spread across his face at Remus’s voice.

                “Remus,” he said, slightly slurring the s, and he crossed across the room, sitting down with a thump on Remus’s bed. Remus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t tell Sirius to get up.

                “You’re drunk,” Remus said, amused.

                “Am not,” Sirius answered, leaning his head back toward Remus’s pillow.

                “No?” Remus asked, laughing.  

                “Completely sober. One hundred percent.”

                “Hmm.”

                “Hmmmmm yourself,” Sirius said, closing his eyes.

000

                Sirius rolled over in bed, taking a deep breath. He nestled his head against his pillow. It smelled wonderful, like chocolate and a crackling fire and—

                He opened his eyes. The curtains were closed shut around him, and he realized that he wasn’t in his own bed. He was in _Remus’s_.

                Sirius searched his mind for last night’s events, but everything was blurred. He remembered the match, the hours-long party, and then—

                Oh, God. He had stumbled up here last night and crawled into Remus’s bed. But why had he let him sleep here? And where was Remus? Tentatively, Sirius pulled back the curtain around Remus’s bed, but the dorm was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief, kneeling back down onto the bed. He hoped that none of them had seen him up here last night. He’d never hear the end of it.

                Just then, the door to the dormitory creaked open, and Sirius held his breath. Maybe whoever it was would just get whatever they needed and leave.

                No such luck; the curtain was pulled back, bringing with it a ray of weak sunlight from the window beside Remus’s bed.

                “Morning,” said Remus, grinning at Sirius. He handed Sirius a glass of water and a few pills. “Figured you’d need that,” he said, when Sirius just stared at him. Sirius gulped down the water and swallowed the pills, drawing out the moment before he would have to talk.

                “Listen,” he finally said, when the glass of water was drained. “I’m sorry—“

                “Don’t worry about it,” Remus said, leaning back. “I pulled the curtains around your bed so no one knew you were sleeping here.”

                “Thanks,” Sirius muttered. “But where did you sleep?”

                “Didn’t sleep last night,” he said with a shrug. At Sirius’s questioning look he added, “Sometimes I can’t. I just did some studying.”

                “That’s crazy,” Sirius said, guilt squirming around in his stomach. “Next time just kick me out.”

                “Next time?” Remus asked, arching an eyebrow. Sirius scowled at him, setting the glass down on the bedside table.

                “You know what I mean,” he said, rubbing at his temples. “Thanks for the aspirin.”

                “No problem,” Remus said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before a distant thud from downstairs pulled them back. Sirius stood up, stretching.

                “You want to work on chemistry later? I owe you one.”

                Remus smiled. “Sure. But let’s save it until tomorrow. I don’t think you’ll be getting much work done today.”

                Sirius aimed a blow at Remus’s head, but he easily dodged it, laughing as he led Sirius down toward the Great Hall.


	3. Chapter 3

                Sirius fidgeted, glancing toward the door for the tenth time in the past few minutes. It was nearing curfew, and Remus still wasn’t back yet. Sirius knew Remus liked to stay late at the library, but this was cutting it close.

                “Just go to bed. He’ll turn up, he always does,” said James, who had looked up from the football book he was reading to see some of Sirius’s agitated glances.

                Sirius ignored him; he couldn’t explain it to his best friend, but he had a feeling that something was wrong.

                “Maybe I should go look for him,” Sirius said, his mind already halfway out the door.

                “No,” said James firmly. “You’re not getting detention for being out after curfew again.”

                “Who cares about detention? Since when do you?”

                James hesitated. “I saw the last letter your mother sent you.”

                Sirius glared at him.

                “I’m sorry,” James said. “But you left it crumpled up on the floor.”

                “Right,” said Sirius. “I’ll be sure to leave it in the trash next time. Unless you’re going to start going through that too?”

                James had the good sense not to reply, and Peter glanced warily between them for a few moments before they descended back into a rather stony silence.

                About ten minutes later, the door opened, almost silently; Sirius, ears trained for picking up any noises due to long practice in mischief-making, sat up straight in his bed. When he saw Remus standing there, he could do nothing but stare at him.

                Remus had clearly been in some sort of fight, and by the looks of it he had lost. One of his eyes was swelling, his lip was split and bloody, and his sleeve was torn. His tie had been discarded, and he looked as though every step he took were causing him pain.

                Coming to his senses, Sirius bounded off the bed.

                “Who did this to you?” He demanded, eyes sweeping up and down Remus; up close, he looked even worse.

                Remus did not answer, avoiding Sirius’s eyes.

                “Who was it?” Sirius asked, his apprehension swelling; while Remus was not one to get into fights the way he and James were, Remus still stood up for himself. What could have happened? By the looks of it, Remus hadn’t raised a hand to defend himself.

                “I thought you would be asleep by now,” Remus finally said, shifting slightly away from Sirius.

                James had now joined Sirius; he was looking at Remus with equal concern, apparently struck by the oddness of his reply.

                “Remus,” James said carefully. “What happened?”

                Remus looked at James, then looked away. He seemed to find no way out of answering, for he finally said, “A group of Slytherins.”

                “I’ll kill them,” Sirius growled, his hands balling into fists. James shot him a quelling look, then turned back to Remus.

                “How many?” he asked.

                “Three or four.”

                “Cowards,” Sirius spat.

                “But,” James said slowly. “You probably could’ve—I mean, three or four is a lot, but you shouldn’t be this badly hurt.”

                Remus fidgeted, rubbing his hands absentmindedly over his torn sleeve, pulling at some of the threads there. Sirius thought he caught a glimpse of a scar when Remus tugged the sleeve back down, but he wasn’t sure. When neither James nor Sirius made any move, he took a breath.

                “There was—“ he sounded apologetic, and Sirius’s sense of unease suddenly spiked. “One of them was younger than the others. He—he looked like you,” Remus said the last words quickly, not really looking at Sirius.

                Everyone was quiet for a minute. Sirius felt hyperaware of his senses, the tingling in his fingers and the pounding in his head.

                “I’ll _kill_ him,” he finally growled, making a move toward the door. James grabbed the back of his shirt.

                “Let go of me,” he snarled, attempting to wrest himself from James’s grip, but James held firm.

                “No,” he said. “Your parents will kill _you_ if you hurt Regulus, you know that.”

                Sirius could think of nothing to stay to this, so he said nothing, but still he attempted to free himself, his irritation growing sharper by the minute. How dare his brother do that to Remus, Sirius’s friend?

                “C’mon,” James said finally. “Let’s go to bed. We can sort this out in the morning.”

                “Fine. Let me go.” James slackened his grip, and Sirius shrugged him off. He suddenly didn’t feel like being around any of them, even Remus. He crossed his arms and slunk off to his bed, pulling the curtains closed around him and leaving Remus there looking slightly ashamed.

000

                For the rest of the week, Sirius was in a foul temper. He refused to participate in class, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at anyone who dared look at him, the younger Gryffindor students had started scrambling out of the way whenever they saw him heading for the common room, and even his friends were regarding him warily.

                James, who was both the most used to and the best at handling Sirius when he got into one of his moods, managed better than the others. It annoyed Sirius, knowing that he couldn’t drive James away no matter how nasty he was to him, but he was also secretly relieved. Peter avoided Sirius as much as he could, as he usually did when these things happened; it gave Sirius a sort of savage pleasure, frightening Peter like that, who would scurry away if Sirius glared at him.

                Remus, however, was a different story. He wasn’t avoiding Sirius the way Peter was, but he was cautious around him; Sirius was once again reminded of a wary animal. He sometimes caught Remus staring at him, but he would quickly look away. Sirius couldn’t quite work out the expression in his eyes when he did this, and it bothered him, not being able to know what Remus was thinking.

                After letting Sirius’s bad behavior play out for a few days, James finally said something to him. They were sitting at breakfast alone on Saturday. Peter had eaten earlier with Frank Longbottom, and Remus had been gone by the time Sirius woke up. Sirius threw his book bag down onto the seat next to him, sending a few younger students scurrying down the table. James watched this with raised eyebrows.

                “You’re being a git, you know.”

                Sirius stabbed his spoon into his cereal. When he looked up, James was still giving him that cool, expectant look.

                “I know,” Sirius finally said, setting down his spoon. He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

                James’s expression did not change. “It’s not me you need to apologize to, mate.”

                Sirius ran his hands through his hair, gazing at the students around him in the Great Hall. James was right; he was acting terribly, and his friends were paying the price for it.

                “I do,” he said.

                James’s expression finally softened. “I know things with your family aren’t great. I get it. But you know you always take it out on Peter, and Remus—he doesn’t even understand what’s going on.”

                “You haven’t told him about it?” Sirius asked.

                “No. That’s up to you,” James said, and Sirius felt a rush of affection and admiration for his best friend.

                “Thanks,” he said quietly.

                “No problem. Now fix it. You’re my best mate, but I’m not letting you sulk for any longer.”

000

                That night, James started another party in the common room; he’d managed to get more alcohol for everyone, and was loudly calling for people to pass forward their money if they wanted any of it. Sirius scanned the sea of people reaching into their pockets, handing over money, and sipping beers, but Remus wasn’t there. Sirius hadn’t really expected him to be.

                He stood up, muttered to James that he was leaving, and threaded his way through the crowd and out into the hallway. He had a pretty good hunch about where he could find Remus.

                At this time on a Saturday night, the library was practically empty. The carpet muffled Sirius’s footsteps as he made his way between shelves stacked with books and vacant desks. Sirius knew Remus liked to study in the very back of the library, his favorite desk one that was hidden behind a few bookshelves, sheltered from the rest of the library.

                Sure enough, Remus was sitting there now. Sirius paused, hidden behind a shelf, and watched Remus read. His head was bent over his book, his hair falling into his eyes. Sirius watched him, hardly daring to breathe as Remus pushed some of his hair out of his eyes, then turned the page with a soft whoosh. Sirius noticed that Remus wore the same peaceful expression he had when looking at the moon, and the thought almost brought a physical ache to his chest. Ignoring this, Sirius coughed and stepped out from behind the bookcase.

                Remus looked up, and surprise flitted across his face. They looked at each other for a long moment.

                “Hi,” Sirius finally said. “Can I sit?”

                Remus nodded, and Sirius sat across from him. He took a steadying breath.

                “I’m sorry for acting like a jerk,” he blurted out. “I know I’ve been…difficult.”

                “That’s one way of putting it.”

                “It’s just—things are hard. With my family.”

                “I figured something was up,” Remus said quietly.

                “Yeah.” Sirius paused. “It’s hard to talk about.”

                “I know.” Now Remus hesitated. “If you ever wanted to talk about it…well, I know what it’s like.”

                Sirius laughed. Remus froze, though his expression did not change.

                “What?” he asked, his voice a bit sharper than usual.

                “I mean, no offense, but I’ve seen you writing letters and things to your parents. They must love you.”

                Remus’s mask seemed to drop for a split second, then went smoothly back on. He didn’t say anything for a while.

                “They aren’t my parents.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “What do you think that means?” Now it was Remus’s turn to laugh. Sirius did not like the sound of it, bitter and short and not at all like Remus’s normal life.

                “I’m sorry—I didn’t know.”

                “How could you?” Remus shrugged, though Sirius could tell he was bothered.

                “Really. I’m sorry.”

                “It’s fine, Sirius. We don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to,” Remus said, and there was something cold and final in his tone. Sirius stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets.

                “Right. Well, I’ll just let you read then.”

                Sirius left the library, feeling like he had left things a bigger mess than they had been before.

               


	4. Chapter 4

                Sirius watched Remus carefully over the next few days, afraid that his blunder in the library was going to drive Remus away. Remus, however, seemed content to drop the matter. The rest of his friends also didn’t press the issue of Sirius’s bad behavior, falling back into their normal patterns of friendship. They mostly seemed glad to have the cheerful, mischievous Sirius back.

                Despite the fact that he tried hard to be his normal self, perhaps working a little too hard on his jokes and pranks, Sirius couldn’t ignore the guilt that was nagging at him. For treating his friends so badly, yes, but especially for laughing when Remus had tried to explain whatever it was he was going to explain. Now, it seemed like he had lost the chance to know.

                Remus was as wary as ever, and if Sirius wasn’t mistaken, he was being more tight-lipped than usual. He still ate with them in the Great Hall, let them copy his homework, and (sometimes unwillingly) helped them prank Snape. But Sirius couldn’t help feeling like he had closed something off.

000

                One morning, Sirius, Peter, James, and Remus were all sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast together. It was a cold, icy day; November had just blown in, bringing with it a damp chill that permeated the entire castle. Students had taken to wearing gloves and scarves in between classes, and Filch, the cranky old caretaker, was working double-time to light all the fires in the grates and fill all the brackets in the walls with torches.

                The Great Hall was one of the warmest rooms in the castle, always filled with people and piping food. Though the wind whistled at the walls outside of them, the boys were snug as they dug into their breakfast.

                “You look ridiculous with two jumpers on, by the way,” Sirius said conversationally, reaching over James to get some more toast.

                “At least he’ll be warm,” Peter piped up. “Unlike you lot.” Peter seemed to be one of those students who was always cold; he had recently wrapped his scarf around his head for easier eating access, and a pair of mittens lay beside his plate.              

                Sirius and James raised their eyebrows and exchanged looks.

                “You’ll be begging me for some of my jumpers soon, Sirius Black,” Remus said, raising his spoon and pointing it at Sirius. “Mark my words.”  

                “Marked,” Sirius said. “Why’ve you put so much sugar on your oatmeal, by the way? Dessert isn’t until later.”

                Remus had opened his mouth to respond when one of the prefects rolled by, handing out that day’s mail. James got his usual long weekly letter from his parents, and he ripped into it without wait. Peter’s mum had sent him a small package, filled with some of Peter’s favorite sweets from home. He eyed them appreciatively before turning to the letter that had come with them. Remus got nothing; he sometimes received small letters or postcards from his family, but not as often as James and Peter. Sirius was about to start talking to him, wary of that wistful look he had in his eye while watching James and Peter reading their letters, when the prefect tapped him on the back.

                “Got one for you, Black,” he said, handing him a thick envelope before heading down toward the rest of the table.   

                Sirius stared at the letter in his hand. There was only reason he ever got letters from home, and it wasn’t good.

                James and Peter were too caught up in their own letters to notice the way Sirius’s face had paled, the way his eyes had turned hard and cold. Remus saw, and he was just opening his mouth when Sirius rose from the table and stalked out of the Great Hall.

                Sirius ignored the chattering crowds of students opening their mail. When he reached the empty silence of the Entrance Hall he took a deep breath and leaned against one of the walls in the corner, turning the envelope over with slightly shaking hands. Maybe he could just ignore it, toss it unopened in the trash—

                But he couldn’t do that, and he tore it open, ripping the top edge of the letter as he did so. His eyes flashed across the page, and he let out a short bark of a laugh when he reached the end.

                “Everything all right?” asked a quiet voice. Sirius hadn’t heard Remus approach, but he drew nearer now, his hands in his pockets and his brow creased. He was looking at Sirius with such quiet concern that Sirius could not stand to meet his eyes; instead, he shoved the letter into Remus’s hands without comment.

                Remus’s eyebrows were raised when he reached the end of the page, and he let out a low whistle.

                “Wow.”

                “Tell me about it,” Sirius muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning away from Remus.

                Remus didn’t speak for a few moments; he contemplated Sirius’s slouched form instead, and Sirius did his best to ignore him.

                “Let’s go,” Remus said finally. He seemed to have reached some sort of decision.

                “What?” asked Sirius, his surprise turning him around to face Remus.

                “You heard me. C’mon.”

                “But—what? Where are we going? We have class in twenty minutes.”

                “We’re skipping,” said Remus firmly. “I’ve just got to get something from my room. Wait here.”

                And then Remus was gone, leaving Sirius standing very confused in the Entrance Hall as students started trickling out and heading toward their classes.

000

                “I look like an idiot,” Sirius muttered, pulling on the sleeves of Remus’s jumper.

                “You always do,” Remus said with a smile.

                “Where are we going anyway?”

                “Shh. We’re almost there.”

                Sirius scowled but followed Remus, who had brought him out onto the grounds. Sirius wasn’t sure where they were going; it was freezing out, after all, but Remus had insisted he bundle up and come along. He was wearing two of Remus’s old jumpers, a woolen hat, and a pair of mittens they had nicked from Peter.

                Now they were circling around the lake, the edges of it filmed with ice. Sirius wondered if they were going to sit near it, and wondered why on earth Remus would want to do that in this weather, but Remus led him past it. After a few more minutes of walking, he stopped.

                “Here,” he said, grabbing Sirius’s hand and leading him toward an old tree. The tree was huge, but it looked like it had fallen over halfway; its trunk was split and half of it was leaning over, forming a small kind of shelter which Remus ducked underneath, pulling Sirius along with him.

                “What is this place?” he asked. Remus had led him into a small, roughly circular shelter, the top formed by the branches of the huge fallen tree, the sides propped up with sticks. There was a thick blanket on the floor and two more neatly folded on top of it.

                “Just a place I like to come,” Remus said, leaning back against a sturdy branch. “I found the tree fallen over like this when I was out here walking once, so I kind of built it up a bit.”

                “And I thought you just went to the library,” he said, though he couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice.

                Remus shrugged. “I mostly do. Sometimes it feels nice to get out a bit though, you know?”

                Sirius nodded.

                “Blanket?” Remus asked. Sirius nodded and Remus tossed him one, unfolding the other and wrapping it around himself.

                “Thanks,” Sirius muttered, wrapping his own around himself. He watched Remus rummaging around in his pockets for a few moments.

                “Aha,” Remus said, pulling out what he was looking for. “Got it.” He held up the small, tightly rolled joint and turned it between his fingers. “Want some?”

                “Remus Lupin,” Sirius said in mock-amazement. “I can’t believe this. First skipping class and then smoking?”

                Remus grinned at him, that slightly wolfish smile that came out whenever they were getting up to something they shouldn’t. Sirius shivered slightly; he wasn’t sure how much of it had to do with the cold.

                “What can I say?” he said, fumbling in his pockets once more and emerging with a lighter. “I guess you just bring out that side of me.”

                Sirius laughed as he took the lighter and joint from Remus, then lit it. He sighed as he inhaled; this was exactly what he needed right now, and a well of gratefulness to Remus sprang up in him.

                “Thanks,” he said, quiet now, as he passed the joint to Remus. “Really.”

                “Anytime,” Remus said, though his smile looked a little sadder this time. “I figured you’d have a hard time concentrating in class after that.”

                “You were right,” Sirius said.

                Remus hesitated. “Do they always talk to you like that?”

                Sirius snorted. “That was nothing.” He pulled out the crumpled letter from his pocket, the one that was written on the finest Black stationary, his mother’s scrawl elegant even in her rage.

                “You have brought shame upon the family with your ridiculous and idiotic antics…we have decided we do not want you besmirching our family’s Christmas with your presence…blah, blah, blah,” Sirius said, tearing the paper in two. It drifted down onto the ground between them.

                “Pretty harsh,” Remus said quietly.

                “What else is new,” Sirius muttered, taking the joint from Remus and inhaling deeply.

                They were quiet for a long time, not speaking as they passed the joint between them.

                “My parents died when I was six,” Remus said suddenly. Sirius only looked at him.

                “My dad was a wildlife conservationist. He used to do all this wild stuff, travelling all over the place studying endangered animals and camping out in forests and things. He didn’t like to take us on anything he thought was too dangerous, but my Mum loved animals and she was always begging him to take us along.”

                Remus took a long drag.

                “When I was six, Dad had this big trip planned to go observe some gray wolves that are nearly extinct in Europe. It was a pretty big deal that he got the job, and he would be gone for ages, so Mum finally wore him down into letting us come with him.”

                “Remus—“ Sirius began, but Remus ignored him.

                “One day I was supposed to be napping but I—I got out of the house we were staying at somehow. Wandered into the woods.” Remus laughed then, a shaky laugh that Sirius didn’t like. “Didn’t go so well,” he said, pointing toward the long scars on his face. “My parents—they were trying to save me.”

                He didn’t seem to be able to say more than that. Sirius didn’t blame him, and he didn’t know what to say, so he settled for rubbing circles into Remus’s back.

                “After that, I bounced around a lot. My parents didn’t have many relatives. Went to homes, foster care, all that,” he said quietly. “Some of it was pretty bad.”

                He was quiet for a while.

                “So I get it,” he finally said, and he looked at Sirius, his gaze strong despite the fact that his eyes were a little wet. “Just—so you know.”

                “I’m sorry,” Sirius said finally. “For everything—for laughing at you in the lib—“

                “It’s okay,” Remus said finally. He seemed very tired, and Sirius thought it had probably taken a lot for Remus to open up to him like that. Sirius wanted to say more, to thank for helping him exactly how he need to be helped today, for letting him know he understood, for bringing him out here, for everything, but he couldn’t figure out the words to say it. He was jolted out of these thoughts when Remus leaned against him, his head resting against his shoulder. Remus, who was so distant and wary and careful.

                “I’m sorry your parents wrote you that letter,” Remus finally muttered, his voice muffled. A few minutes later he was asleep, his head still against Sirius’s shoulder and their blankets tangled together. It was a while before he woke up.

A/N: Thoughts?


	5. Chapter 5

                “I look ridiculous,” Remus grumbled, tugging at the sleeves of a blazer he was trying on.

                “You do not,” said Sirius, unable to stop grinning.

                “I do to, and you look almost as bad.”

                “Remus’s got a point, to be fair,” said James, admiring the navy blazer he had tried on in the mirror. “But I look bloody good, don’t I? Think Lily’ll like this color?”

                “Won’t be able to control herself,” Sirius said, “just like all the blokes won’t be able to once they get a look at me.”

                Remus made a small choking noise, but quickly covered it with a cough. Sirius raised an eyebrow and quirked a small smile at him.

                “You didn’t pick up on that by now?” He said, trying to keep his voice light despite the sudden tightening feeling he’d had in his chest.

                A faint blush was spreading across Remus’s cheeks. “I—“

                Fortunately, Peter spared him the trouble of responding by blundering out of the dressing room at just that moment in a bright purple shirt, complete with a lime green tie. James and Sirius immediately let out roars of laughter. Peter’s face flushed and he stomped back into the dressing room, emerging with the clothes he’d brought in there with him. He proceeded to pelt them at James and Sirius, who laughed and dodged around the store, which naturally led to the shop owner coming over to them and snapping at them to buy what they wanted and leave.

                Ten minutes later, the boys were making their way down Hogsmeade High Street, purchases safely tucked into plastic bags. James and Sirius had succeeded in persuading Remus to purchase the maroon, crushed velvet confection that Sirius had picked out for him, but had been unable to do the same for Peter.

                They spent the rest of the day meandering around the village, stocking up on items in the joke shop and sweets from Honeydukes, which had the best chocolate in all of Britain. Eventually, the chill of the December air urged them back toward the castle. Sirius tried his best to ignore the small pinprick of fear that had rooted itself in his mind.

000

                James and Sirius were the only ones in the common room; it was late, and everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. As usual, James and Sirius were behind on their homework and had decided an all-nighter was in order. Remus had rolled his eyes at them before going off to bed. Peter had already been asleep, his snores echoing around the common room.

                James was scribbling away at his history essay, but Sirius had paused in his work, distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking of Remus’s face when he’d made that comment in the shop, the way he had made that odd little choking noise. He might’ve just been caught off guard, but…

                No, it wasn’t useful to think that way. Remus had never given any indication that he was bigoted; he was kind and thoughtful to everyone, even _Snape_. There was no way he’d care about something like that, right?

                Sirius must’ve stopped working for too long, because James looked up from his essay.

                “Sirius?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. James could always tell when something was wrong with Sirius—they could read each other’s facial expressions and movements as if they were speaking clearly to each other. Sirius could tell by the way James was looking at him that he was worried, and he tried to arrange his expression into something neutral.

                “Yes? Need some help?” He asked, throwing James a quick smile.

                “No,” James said, setting down his essay. “I’m nearly done.” He paused. “What’s wrong? Are you still upset about your parents’ letter?”

                “No. I mean, yeah, but—that’s not what’s bothering me.”

                “What’s up then?”

                “It’s—did you notice Remus’s face, when I said that thing in the dressing room about all the blokes noticing me?” Sirius held his breath. He wanted James to tell him that no, he hadn’t noticed anything, and what was Sirius worrying about that for?

                James was quiet for a while, the crackling fire filling in the silence.

                “Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I noticed.”

                Sirius’s worry must have shown on his face, because James quickly added, “I don’t think you need to worry about it. It’s Remus.”

                “Yeah,” Sirius said quietly.  

000

                Friday finally arrived, and with it came the Yule Ball, a school tradition. The dance was held in the Great Hall, whose long tables would be pushed to the sides in favor of smaller, circular tables framing a spacious dance floor. Mostly everyone went, even the professors, and it lasted long into the night.

                Breakfast that morning was a noisy, chatty affair, everyone too caught up in the excitement of the coming night to pay much attention to anything else. Lessons that day would be a nightmare; some teachers simply gave up on teaching, although most of them, like steely-eyed Professor McGonagall, pushed through.

                Sirius, who had just arrived with James and Peter, was scanning their table for any sign of Remus, who had been gone by the time they’d woken up. He spotted him almost immediately, deep in conversation with Lily Evans. He kept his eye on them as he sat down, noticing the way he bent his head back in laughter at something she’d just said.

                As they ate their breakfast, Sirius kept shooting glances at the pair down the table. He was distracted the whole time, and was glad when James tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was time to leave for class.

                Like everyone else, Sirius had a hard time concentrating in class that day, though the reasons was partially attributed to the fact that Remus had rejoined them, sitting next to him in nearly every class. For some reason, this irritated him; when Remus dropped his pencil for the fifth time that day, he snapped at him to keep his things on his bloody desk. The confused, hurt look in Remus’s eyes had been too much for him, and he’d had to look away.

                Once classes were over, Sirius broke away from his friends as quickly as he could, telling them he needed to use the bathroom and that he’d meet up with them in a few minutes.

                He shook them off, then made his way toward the most out of the way bathroom he could find. He considered a few options before finally settling on the out of use girls’ room on the second floor. If he wanted to be alone, he might as well do it right.

                The bathroom looked the same as always, damp and dingy and poorly lit. James and Sirius had discovered the place in their third year here, and had since then sporadically used it for drinking, smoking, or whatever other illicit activities the bathroom could provide cover for.

                Sirius ducked into one of the only stalls with a functioning door. He felt himself relax as the lock clicked shut, and closed his eyes as he sat down. This was what he needed; just a few minutes to calm his mind, to figure out why he was so on edge today.

                Well, maybe he knew why he was so on edge today, but he needed to shake that off. He was being a moody prick, and he wanted to have a good time tonight at the dance with his friends.

                He stayed in the bathroom for longer than he’d intended, emerging fifteen minutes later after splashing his face with some cold water. He searched for his friends in the Great Hall, then doubled back to check the dorm. He found them in the common room, sprawled out on the couches.

                With a grin, he jumped onto the middle of the couch, sending James sprawling toward the floor.

000

                Sirius ran a hand through his hair, admiring himself in the mirror. He was wearing an all-white getup that everyone had assured him was a bad idea. He turned contemplatively to the side, eying his reflection through a whiskey-softened haze.

                “How do I look?” He asked, twirling around and batting his eyelashes at James. James responded with a shove.

                “Ridiculous, as I’ve told you about ten times already,” he said, though he grinned as he finished tying his tie. He pushed Sirius aside and took his place in the mirror, running a hand through his hopelessly messy hair.

                “Too bad he can’t fix that hair,” Sirius mock-whispered to Remus and Peter, who were sitting on Sirius’s bed, passing the whiskey bottle between each other. James aimed a blow at him, but Sirius easily dodged it and collapsed back onto to the bed with Remus and Peter, gently wresting the bottle out of Remus’s hands and taking another drag.

                “Let’s get going, shall we?” Sirius said, springing to his feet.

                “We’re already late,” Remus agreed, standing up as well. Sirius heard Peter and James falling into step behind them; he hooked his arm around Remus’s and led them down toward the Great Hall.

000

                Sirius was having a great time, which passed in an alcoholic blur. They’d snuck in more alcohol, taking nips of it every so often. Sirius wasn’t sure how long he’d spent on the dance floor, but he knew it was a long time. He suddenly realized he was alone; where had the others gone? And how long ago had they gone?

                He left the pulsing dance floor and descended into the dimmer seating area, keeping an eye out for the others. He noticed Peter first, on the opposite side of the dance floor with Bertha Jorkins. He grinned to himself.

                Now, where were James and Remus? He wondered if James were off talking to another girl to make Lily jealous (a strategy he had tried in the past with no results).

                He found Remus first, sitting alone at a table nursing a cup of punch. He dropped into the seat next to him, and Remus started.

                “Surprised you?” He asked.

                Remus smiled. “A bit, yeah. It’s quieter over here.”

                “Tired of dancing?”

                “Yeah. Not really my thing.”

                “Not your thing?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You were doing alright before.”

                “Yeah, “alright”,” Remus said, laughing. Sirius picked up his punch and took a sip.

                “Wow,” he said, passing it back to Remus. “That’s strong.”

                Remus grinned back at him, and Sirius noticed the slightly dazed expression.

                “Might as well do the thing right, right?”

                “Right,” Sirius answered, and both laughed, slowly and lazily. The table they were sitting at was about as far as you could from the dance floor, the corner shadowed and secluded.

                “Can I ask you something?” Sirius blurted.

                The smile stilled in Remus’s face. “Sure.”

                “When I said I liked blokes—did it upset you?”

                Remus blinked at him. “Upset me? Why d’you think that?” His words were slower than usual, the ends of them dragged out a bit.

                “You seemed—I don’t know, you reacted oddly.”

                Remus was quiet. “It didn’t upset me. I’m sorry I made you think that.”

                “Then what was it?” Sirius pressed.

                Remus was quiet for so long that Sirius didn’t think he was going to answer.

                “It’s just—“

                At that moment, James bounded over, huge grin plastered to his face.

                “Guess what?” He said, jumping into a seat next to Sirius. “Lily’s agreed to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend!”

                “ _What_?” Sirius was so thrown off that he forgot his irritation at James’s interruption.

                “She really said yes!” He nearly yelled. “C’mon let’s go celebrate,” he said, dragging Remus and Sirius away from the table and toward the dance floor.

                Caught up in the whirl of James’s euphoria, Sirius didn’t have another chance to talk to Remus for the rest of the evening; James kept pressing more drinks into their hands and throwing his arms around them, even tracking Peter down in a dark corner with Bertha Jorkins. Peter had emerged, looking pink in the face but rather pleased with himself, and the four of them had spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing.

                Later that night, Sirius lay awake, still slightly drunk, wondering what Remus had been about to tell him.

               


	6. Chapter 6

                It was the last week before break. Sirius was sitting with James, Remus, and Peter in the Great Hall, in the midst of a spirited conversation about their chosen group moniker.

                “The _Marauders_ , though?” Remus repeated for the fifth time. “Really, you sound like a thirteen year old’s garage band.”

                “See,” said James seriously. “We’ll have to revoke his membership.” Sirius nodded in reply.

                “It was nice knowing you, Lupin,” he said solemnly. “Tell me how becoming best friends with Snape goes, won’t you?”

                Remus opened his mouth, ready for another round of sparring, when Professor McGonagall approached the table. The group immediately fell silent.

                At Hogwarts, professors were in charge of groups of students, split up by dorm. Professor McGonagall managed the Gryffindor students, acting as part disciplinarian, academic adviser, and counselor, depending on the situation. While everyone respected and liked her despite her no-nonsense manner, an unexpected visit from her was not exactly a welcoming sight.

                Dinner was nearly over, and they were one of the last groups of people at the table.

                “Black,” she said. “Come to my office once you’re done with dinner.”

                “Yes, Professor,” said Sirius. Professor McGonagall nodded and made her way out of the Great Hall. Sirius watched her leave.

                “What did you do?” asked Peter immediately.

                “Don’t know,” said Sirius, wracking his brain. He really hadn’t done anything bad lately, not that he could think of.

                “You don’t think she found out we brought alcohol to the Ball, do you?” Peter suggested.

                Sirius considered it. “Maybe,” he said. “But then why’d she only ask me to come to her office, and not all of us?”

                Further discussion yielded no answers, and it was with mixed apprehension and curiosity that Sirius left the Great Hall and went up to Professor McGonagall’s office. The Marauders followed behind him, lingering a few feet away as he turned toward the door.

                “You guys can go up. Whatever it is, I’ll be back soon.”

                “We’ll wait,” said James, leaning back against the wall. Sirius nodded and knocked.

                “Come in.”

                Sirius shut the door behind him and stepped into the office, a large room with expansive windows and a fire burning in the grate.

                “Sit,” Professor McGonagall said, and Sirius took the hard-backed chair opposite her.

                “Have I done something, Professor?” Sirius blurted out. The corners of Professor McGonagall’s mouth turned up slightly.

                “No, Black, not this time.” She surveyed him through her glasses, then spoke again. “I’m sure you know that Hogwarts does not usually allow phone calls, barring emergencies. We find it detrimental to the learning environment.”

                Sirius nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

                “However, since term is about to end, and there is apparently not enough time to send mail, I’ve agreed to your parents’ request to phone you.”

                “What?” Whatever Sirius had expected, this wasn’t it. What could his parents possibly have to say to him? They hadn’t sent him any letters since they told him not to bother coming home for Christmas.

                “I have a phone here,” she said, gesturing toward the dial-up on her desk. “If you prefer, I can step out of the room.”

                “It’s fine,” Sirius muttered. “Should—should I call them?”

                She nodded. “I told them you would call around this time.”

                Sirius dialed the number, slowly, trying to keep his face calm and neutral. It rung three times before someone picked up.

                “Black Residence,” came the croaky voice of their old butler, Mr. Kreacher. Sirius’s hand tightened against the phone.

                “It’s Sirius,” he said shortly. There was a pause.

                “One moment.”

                _Of course they’d keep me waiting_ , Sirius thought.

                “Sirius.” It was his mother’s voice, high and cold.

                “Yes.”

                “Don’t take that tone with me,” she snapped. A pause. “Your father and I have decided it is best for you to come home, after all.”

                “ _What?_ ”

                “I said not to take a tone with me. You’ll get on the train back to school or we’ll come up there and drag you down ourselves.”

                His mother hung up after that, and Sirius listened to the ringing dial tone for a few seconds in silence. Coming to, he put the phone down, shoving his hands into his pockets.

                He momentarily forgot he was in Professor McGonagall’s office, because her voice startled him.

                “Everything all right, Black?” He avoided her eyes and nodded.

                “Goodnight Professor,” he said, standing and hurrying out the door.

                James, Peter, and Remus were still lingering outside when he left the office, and for once he wished that they weren’t there.

                “What’s up?” asked James, falling into step beside Sirius as he already started to walk away. Sirius knew that James was worried, had detected something off with him. It annoyed him.

                “They’ve changed their minds. I’m to come home for Christmas after all.”

                Even James could think of nothing to say to that, and they made their way to the dorm in silence. Sirius shrugged off his friends in the common room, muttering that he wanted to get to bed early without looking at any of them.

                He had been alone in his bed for nearly an hour, the curtains drawn around him, when the door to their room creaked open.

                “Sirius?” It was Remus’s voice, quiet and cautious. Sirius rolled over on his side and ignored him.

000

                The next morning, Sirius woke to Peter’s announcement that they were heading down to breakfast, if he wanted to join them. He ignored him, pulling his pillow over his ear to block out their noise. Once they had left, he sat up, unable to fall back asleep.

                He got dressed, pulling his uniform on with perhaps more force than necessary. He supposed he’d go to class; after all, right now wasn’t the best time to have a letter sent home, warning his parents that he was skipping class. Maybe it would be a nice distraction.

                Sirius felt slightly guilty as he walked toward History, the corridors nearly empty as everyone was at breakfast. He knew he was being moody again, was worrying his friends, would probably snap at them, misplacing his anger. But he was just so _tired_ of it all.

                He knew what going home was going to be like, and looking at that squarely, full in the face, drained him. It would be constant criticism from his mother, barely a moment’s peace without her telling him what a disappointment he was; it would be cold, sneering comments from his father, the few times he wasn’t blatantly ignoring him; it would be Mr. Kreacher’s sly smiles whenever his mother was laying into him; and it would be Regulus, avoiding his eyes most of the time, sometimes throwing fearful looks at him when their mother wasn’t looking.

                And on top of all that would be the rest of the family, who would no doubt be visiting for Christmas. He could imagine his ancient great aunts and uncles voicing their opinions that he wasn’t being properly disciplined, that he was allowed to run wild and why didn’t his parents take a firmer hand with him? And his cousin Bellatrix leering at him from across the table, and Narcissa loudly inquiring whether his mother had settled on suitable marriage arrangements yet, and hours spent his room staring at the ceiling, either through forced or chosen isolation.

                Sirius ran his fingers through his hair, frustration mounting. It wasn’t fair.

000

                He didn’t pay attention at all in class that day, not even bothering to open his notebook. He simply sat there, staring out the window or at the ground, not taking in a word any of his professors said.

                He could feel his friends’ eyes on him, but he ignored them. He regretted his decision to come to class, consequences be damned. He craved solitude, even though he knew that being alone wouldn’t help anything.

                But it didn’t help to be sitting right next to James, who would cheerfully set off for his loving family in a few days’ time. He hated himself for envying James that way, for feeling resentful, but the truth was that he did: he resented the fact that James’s parents adored him, that they ate home cooked family meals together, that they played chess and monopoly with one another, that they had days unmarred by vicious arguments or insults.

                He ate his dinner in silence, only speaking when he had to. He could see his friends exchanging worried looks, but his earlier anger had flared out. He was just tired now, and after dinner he made up an excuse about leaving a book behind in Chemistry, hurrying off before anyone could offer to come with him.

                Sirius wandered the corridors for a while, half-hoping he’d see Snape so he could start a fight and vent a bit of his anger.

                He didn’t get his wish, though, and after an hour of aimless wandering he realized he was near the library. He pushed the door open without thinking, his feet carrying him toward the secluded corner he had visited a few times.

                He dropped into the chair opposite Remus, who looked up at him, quickly masking his surprise as he moved some of his books and papers out of the way.

                “Sorry—here, let me move that—“

                “It’s fine,” said Sirius. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Break’s in two days, what could you possibly have to do?”

                Remus shrugged. “Just trying to get some stuff out of the way so I can relax a bit over break.”

                Sirius was quiet. He had the suspicion that Remus’s stay in the library probably had something to do with the tense atmosphere he had brought over the group, heavy and thick as a curtain. If he were James or Peter, Sirius would probably have snapped at him about the lovely time he was going to have over break. In light of what Remus had shared with him, he couldn’t.

                “You’re going back to stay with your—foster parents, then?”    

                Remus was quiet, and Sirius worried he had used the wrong term. He was about to apologize when Remus spoke.

                “I’m staying here, actually,” he said, looking down at his book.

                “You’re staying here?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Is it—why?” He blurted.

                “It’s just…” He trailed off. “Sorry. I’m bad at explaining things like this.” He spoke slowly, deliberately. “My foster parents—Greg and Angela—they’ve done a lot for me, y’know? They took me when I…wasn’t doing so great, and they helped me apply to schools and get scholarships and everything…”

                He shrugged. “I’ve just been a lot. I thought it would be nice to give them some time to go on holiday by themselves.”

                “I’m sure they would love to spend time with you,” said Sirius quietly. He noticed the way Remus’s voice had quivered slightly, the way he still didn’t make eye contact with him, and he felt a tightness tugging at his chest that he did not quite understand.

                Remus shrugged again. “It’s alright. I’ll have some time to sleep in, catch up on my reading.” He paused again. “Are you going to be…okay?”

                “I’ll live,” said Sirius, though the bitterness he had felt all day had dissolved. It was different with Remus.

                “I know you’ll live. That’s not what I meant.”

                Sirius shrugged. “Let’s not talk about it.”

                “Do they…will they hurt you?”

                Coming from anyone else, Sirius would’ve told them to mind their own business; his family was not something he discussed in depth with anyone, even James. But it was coming from Remus, who was worrying his bottom lip beneath his teeth, looking at Sirius with real concern in his eyes. It made him look younger, more vulnerable.

                “Not usually.”

                “That’s not exactly comforting.”

                Sirius shrugged again. “Sometimes they’ll lose their temper with me. Never do anything bad, though. Can’t leave any marks, that wouldn’t be keeping up appearances.” He laughed, short and cold.

                 “You can’t stay here?”

                “No. Mother told me she’d come drag me home herself if I didn’t.”

                Remus was back to biting his lip, and Sirius watched the motion with a kind of fascination. Remus suddenly closed the book before him, the thump startling Sirius.

                “It’s no use studying.”

                “I don’t want to go back to the common room,” Sirius said. He felt better here, alone in the library with Remus, than he had all day. The thought of going back, of sitting in tense silence…

                “The tree?” Remus asked.

                “That’d be great,” said Sirius, and he followed Remus out of the library and down to the entrance hall, where they lingered until the coast was clear for them to sneak out.

                It was already dark, and they slipped over frosty grass and patches of ice as they headed toward the dark outline of the fallen tree. Sirius ducked down, following Remus inside once they had reached the place. He felt calmer, less stressed, in the small space, wrapped in a blanket and leaning next to Remus, who, after rummaging through his bag for a few minutes, produced another small joint.

                “Have I told you how brilliant you are?” Sirius asked as he took a drag.

                “Not today,” said Remus, and Sirius thought he could feel his smile in the dark.

                “You’re brilliant."

               


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning was gray and drizzly, the blend of slushy dampness that meant it wasn’t quite cold enough for snow but was still thoroughly miserable to stand in for more than two minutes. Sirius picked up the edge of his jacket and curled it around his ears on the way down to the train platform, doing his best to ignore the throb of anxiety that hummed beneath the surface of his skin. 

He reached the train platform first, Professor McGonagall standing before it holding a long scroll of parchment. She gave him her usual curt nod as she checked his name off the list, though Sirius thought he might have detected a gleam of something in her eye—perhaps pity. He shook off the thought and got on the train, not stopping until he had reached an empty compartment. 

“Thanks for leaving us behind,” groused James, pushing the compartment door open with his shoulder. His voice didn’t hold any bite, though, and he reached over to help Peter put his trunk up with an easy smile. 

“Wish Lupin was coming with,” said Peter, taking a seat across from Sirius and blowing some air onto his hands. 

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed. He turned his head to look outside, but he couldn’t see anything except the thick gray sheets of rain. 

Sirius could feel James looking at him. 

“Same. Told him he’s welcome to visit, but he shook me off. You two are as well, you know,” James added, fishing in his coat pocket for something. 

Sirius let out a short, barking laugh. 

“Well, if you can manage to get away. Mum’d love to see you.” 

“Love to see her too,” said Sirius, turning his head away from the window. “She’s a lot better than my mother.” 

Peter shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Sirius knew he was being a moody git again, but Peter’s twitchy nervousness was chafing at his nerves. He wished Remus were there—he wouldn’t look at him like he had three heads every time he mentioned home. 

Sirius knew James was looking at him, giving him that searching look that Sirius felt could peer into his soul. Which was dramatic, but James knew a lot more than anyone did. He could sense that James was about to speak, to offer to house him (more permanently than for just the holidays), but Sirius cut him off. 

“Ah, well. You have a pack of cards, Jamesy?” 

James scowled at the nickname but produced the pack of cards from his coat pocket and tossed them over to Sirius. 

*** 

The day’s train ride had passed pleasantly, the dark, wet countryside speeding by them as they headed toward London. It was cozy in their compartment though, warm and bright and with their laughter spilling from their mouths and bouncing around the windows and seat cushions. Sirius could almost forget what he was heading for. 

Until the train slowly pulled to a stop, jolting him back into the unpleasant reality that lay before him. They all busied themselves grabbing their trunks and jackets and scarves, and they found themselves being shuffled off the time before they’d had the chance to say two words to each other. 

Sirius paused beneath an archway, his anger suddenly extinguished as if by a gust of the cold wind that buffeted the train station. He suddenly felt scared, and lonely, and wanted his best friend. 

James appeared beside him at the moment and placed a bracing hand on his shoulder. 

“Call if you need to, okay?” He said. Peter was puffing along, still a few feet behind, dragging his trunk over toward them. Sirius met James’s gaze and nodded, his words sticking in his throat. He wanted to tell him how grateful he was, but at that moment James’s parents walked over and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. 

Mrs. Potter turned to him next, hugging him and planting two quick kisses on his cheek. Mr. Potter shook his hand, then Peter’s, before sticking his hands in his pocket in the exact way James did. 

“You boys have all grown so much,” Mrs. Potter said, after giving Peter his hug. “And where’s that new friend of yours James won’t stop talking about?” 

“He’s staying at school,” said James. “Maybe he can come round during summer, though.” 

“Oh, poor dear,” murmured Mrs. Potter. “You did remember to invite him over, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, mum,” said James. 

“School going okay then, boys?” Mr. Potter asked brightly. Sirius was about to respond when he heard a sharp cough behind him. 

It was Regulus, standing a few feet behind them and looking extremely uncomfortable. Mr. Kreacher stood next to him, wearing the expression he usually wore when looking at Sirius—like he’d just stepped in something extremely unpleasant. 

Mrs. Potter’s eyes flashed (as they usually did whenever she saw anyone from Sirius’s family) but she didn’t say anything. 

“Gotta go,” said Sirius, pinpricks of anger needling him once more. 

Mrs. Potter squeezed his arm and gave him another kiss on the cheek while Kreacher looked on disdainfully and Regulus shifted from foot to foot. 

“We’ll see you soon, Sirius,” said Mr. Potter quietly. He could feel their eyes on his back as he walked away, falling into step behind Regulus and Kreacher as they picked their way through the crowded platform. Sirius noticed Kreacher was holding Regulus’s trunk and rolled his eyes. 

“This way,” snapped Kreacher. As if Sirius didn’t know how to get out of the train station. 

“I will go retrieve the car,” he said, indicating a bench before creeping out of the place. Sirius always thought he walked like some sort of slimy creature that lived underneath a rock. 

Sirius threw himself into the bench, crossing his arms across his chest. Regulus took a careful seat beside him. 

“Did you have a good term?” Regulus asked quietly. 

“Fine,” Sirius replied. He didn’t look at him. “Did you have a good term? Heard you like ganging up on people five to one now.” 

Regulus didn’t say anything. Sirius didn’t bother to look at his reaction. 

Kreacher returned a few minutes later, giving a short bow and gesturing to them to follow him to the car he’d pulled up near the curb. 

***  
It was like he had been sucked into a movie and was now forced to live out the same scene over and over and over. Here he was, back in the Black dining room, tugging at an uncomfortable tie while his horrible parents sat there talking as if he wasn’t in the room while occasionally pausing long enough in their conversations for his mother to glare at him. Regulus played the part of the dutiful son, answering all their questions about his friends and his life at Hogwarts and his exam grades. Once or twice he looked over at Sirius. 

Sirius picked at his food, trying to ignore the drone of voices around him. If he could just get through tonight without an incidents, perhaps his parents would let him skip out on family dinner for the rest of the holiday. He knew they didn’t really want him here anyway. They had been happy at first to tell him to stay clear of the house for the holidays. He wondered, for the hundredth time, why they’d had to have a change of heart. He supposed it was too keep up appearances at Christmas dinner, though he didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have known that before sending their first letter. 

“Don’t pick at your food like that,” snapped Walburga. Sirius grit his teeth and set his fork down. 

***

The next few days passed miserably. Sirius spent half his time lying in his darkened bedroom, kicking restlessly at his trunk, flipping through his pictures of James, Peter, and Remus, and halfheartedly skimming through his textbooks. Once or twice, he’d started a letter to Remus, but he ended up crumpling them up. There was no way he’d have a chance to leave the house and send his letters out. 

The thought of seeing his friends sustained him, a fire burning beneath the steel exterior he was trying to present. He told himself that he just had to get through the next few weeks and then he’d be back. He’d be back to eating sweets with Peter and wrestling with James and sitting in the tree with Remus. It would be fine, and then he wouldn’t have to be back at Grimmauld Place for months. 

He could tell Regulus wanted to talk to him, could even hear him standing outside his bedroom once or twice, the floorboards creaking underneath his weight. Sirius wasn’t feeling very charitable toward his brother, and whenever this happened he turned onto his side and pressed his pillow against his ears. 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t miss Regulus—he’d been his first friend, his only friend for the early years of his life. But it was becoming clearer every day that they were moving in very different directions. Regulus and his parents stood on one side, with their obsessions with class and money and proper society, and Sirius stood alone on the other, marooned as they drifted away. 

And he still couldn’t forgive Regulus for whatever part he’d played in those Slytherin creeps messing with Remus. Those rich, white Slytherin scumbags, who thought they owned the school and sneered at anyone they considered beneath them. 

And Regulus didn’t seem to be separate from them anymore. 

Two days before Christmas found Sirius lying on his bed deep in thought about his brother. The room was dark around him—he’d skipped dinner, choosing to isolate himself from the buzz of activity filling the house. His mother was in full temper, sweeping about the place and ordering Kreacher about to get the house in order for Christmas. 

A knock at his door wrenched him out of his thoughts. So Regulus had finally worked up the courage to come talk to him, had he? Sirius ignored the knocking, willing to just leave him alone, but it only got louder. 

“What?” He asked loudly, once he could ignore it no longer and had opened the door. Orion Black stood there, looking tall and impressive in an impeccable suit. 

“Oh,” said Sirius. “Sorry.” 

“Come with me,” his father said, turning around without a backward glance and leading Sirius toward his study. 

Sirius scrambled after him, feeling rather like he’d just missed a step going down the stairs. His father rarely acted like he existed, leaving the discipline to his wife. Sirius wondered if he was in for a lecture about his behavior this break, but even that wasn’t really Orion’s style. No—something was off here. 

Orion opened the door to his study. The room was dark, paneled with oak, a lush Oriental rug carpeting the floor beneath his expensive desk. 

“Sit.” 

Sirius took a seat in the uncomfortable chair in front of his father’s desk. Orion settled himself across from his son, folding his arms across his thick chest. Sirius couldn’t read the expression in his eyes; he had never been able to read into his father, his eyes always dark and emotionless like a shark’s. Sirius had never spent much time alone with his father; he knew the man considered raising children to be women’s work, so Orion had always been a shadowy figure on the fringes of Sirius’s childhood. 

“There is something I need to discuss with you,” said Orion; Sirius started, the deep, slow voice unnerving in the cool darkness of the room. Uneasiness prickled the back of Sirius’s neck; what could he need to talk about with him, when they had barely had a private conversation his entire life? 

“Yes, sir?” Sirius asked, after an uncomfortably long pause. 

“As you know, you are my heir. And as the heir to the Black family, you have certain…duties.” 

The word lingered in the air, long and ominous. Sirius nodded, hoping Orion would get to the point of this. 

“You are to be betrothed soon.”

“I’m—what?” 

“Betrothed,” Orion said, enunciating the word, slowly dragging it out as if Sirius were five years old and learning a new word. “To Tiffany Yaxley. Her father’s a Duke. A highly suitable match.” 

Sirius, for once, had nothing to say. He could only stare at his father. 

“She will coming to Christmas dinner here with her parents. You will be charming, a gentleman.” He paused. “Any of your little, ah, tricks, and you won’t be going back to school. Understood?” 

Sirius could only nod. Orion’s mouth slipped upward into a cold smile. 

“Wonderful. Don’t think of this as the end of the world, of course,” Orion said, that awful smile still playing about his lips. “You’ll marry the girl, but what you do on the side is up to you.” He let out a little laugh, then stood up. He clapped a heavy hand on Sirius’s shoulder before heading out of his study. He shut the door, leaving Sirius sitting alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the long delay on this update! I'm hoping to update this once a week from now on, and have the ending all planned out:) If you're an old reader, thank you for sticking around! If you're new, I hope you enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying the story!


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